


Time moves in circles (and straight lines are just an invention)

by BlackIbis (WanderingBandurria)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Depression, Emotional Infidelity, Epistolary, Getting Back Together, Grief/Mourning, Horror, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Infidelity, James Potter Lives, Lily Evans Potter Lives, M/M, Mentions of Other First Order Characters, Mild Blood, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Character Death, Minor Dumbledore bashing, Minor James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Miscommunication, Mystery, Necromancy, Post-First War with Voldemort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Refereced Wounds, Self-Esteem Issues, Smoking, Unhappy Ending, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:46:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25987642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanderingBandurria/pseuds/BlackIbis
Summary: Sirius Black disappears from his friends’ lives right after Hogwarts. He's back seven years later, hiding secrets.Remus should be over him by now - he has built a life for himself, and he has a loving, caring partner.But when it comes to Sirius, it seems that there are things that never change. Maybe there are things you just don’t get over with.
Relationships: Remus Lupin/Kingsley Shacklebolt, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 23
Kudos: 44
Collections: Wolfstar Hurt Fest





	Time moves in circles (and straight lines are just an invention)

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: Sirius is conflicted because he has to leave to save Regulus, but it takes so long, he doesn't come back for years, and has long since fallen out of touch. Remus is dating someone else when Sirius returns, having failed at saving Reg.
> 
> Thanks to MQ for the beta work, and to M. for the brainstorming and plot check.
> 
> Thanks for the Mods for putting together this fest!

_\---_

_July 7, 1978_

_Hey Padfoot,_

_Where are you? Is everything alright? I went to your flat yesterday but you weren’t there. I think some of your stuff is gone too. Are you away on behalf of the Order? I tried to ask Dumbledore but he won’t answer me._

_Please write me as soon as you get this._

_James_

_PS., Lily said yes. Hope you will be back soon because I need to ask you a question._

_\---_

_July 28, 1978_

_Hey Padfoot,_

_Will you cut the crap and come back already? Prongs is driving us crazy with all his worry._

_We are all worried._

_Peter_

_\---_

_October 13, 1978_

_Sirius,_

_It’s been three months without news from you._

_I never thought something like this could happen. I knew the war was around the corner, but I never thought a day would come when you would just… not be here. Never thought that you wouldn’t be by James’ side for his engagement party. That you wouldn't be there to toast to the impossible happening, and to tell James’ parents not to worry because grandchildren were coming soon._

_He’s waiting for you, you know? He won’t pick anyone else as his best man. He goes looking for you every weekend. He has set wards on your flat to know as soon as someone goes in, and he’s making sure the payments are being made so that you always have a place to come back._

_Not that you need a flat to have that, you know? You’ll always have a place to come back with us._

_Gods, Sirius, I hope you're alright. You better be out there doing something fucking important for Dumbledore._

_I can only think of one thing that would keep you away from your friends and make you not even answer a letter, but I really hope that's not what you are doing. James doesn’t want to believe it. I don’t want to believe it either. You wouldn’t be so reckless as to go back to your family, would you?_

_Please, Padfoot, just answer one letter. Just write down “I’m still alive, I’ll be back.” Just anything. Send us anything._

_Please come back. I miss you._

_Remus_

_PS. We know you are getting our letters because the owls keep coming back after a few days. I don’t know what spell you used that we can’t track you down, but you better be safe, understood?_

_\---_

_You have to stop following me._

_If you are going to persist with your behaviour, I’m going to be forced to attack you._

_If you really need to talk, meet me next Saturday, 8:13, in the place where you found me when I got lost when I was 6. You called me a crybaby, so I’m sure you’ll remember it._

_Be there on time. If you don’t show up, I’m hexing you the next time we cross paths._

_R.A.B._

_\---_

_November 27, 1979_

_You won’t come back. You_ _won’t_ _come back._

_You won’t come back._

_You have no place on this land._

_You only brought shame to this family, and I won’t allow your presence on the same ground that my son’s dead body lies under._

_You are a disgrace to the wizarding kin. You don’t deserve to be alive, but I won’t reduce myself to do anything to make your miserable end come any faster._

_You won’t set foot on this land. Not until my magic can’t hold anymore._

_Don’t expect that to be anytime soon._

_\---_

_May 21, 1981_

_Padfoot,_

_We are going into hiding, Lily, Harry and I. No more recklessness for us._

_Harry’s first birthday is going to be in the middle of a war. It breaks my heart to know that he might have to grow up in a world where it’s not safe for him to be himself. He makes me think of you._

_I still have faith, even though everything looks grim. The war is going to end soon and you are going to be back, right? I know you are hiding because of it. You probably have a big reward hanging over your head after pissing off some powerful Death Eater, eh?_

_Just, I hope you are safe, mate._

_If you come back, just ask around. Especially in the sewers, where all types of creatures lurk, from squids to_ _rats_ _. There you might find a way back to us._

_Love you, brother._

_James_

_\---_

_November 13, 1981_

_You probably already know the news. Voldemort is gone._

_What you might not know is that Peter betrayed James and Lily. Betrayed us. We don’t know for how long he worked for Voldemort, but we think it was not for too long, or he would have had a chance to get to Harry sooner._

_The Potters are only alive because the night that Voldemort went after Harry, Dumbledore defeated him. Otherwise… Gods, I don’t want to think about it. If Dumbledore had been just a few minutes too late - If he hadn't known that Voldemort was going after them on Halloween... If he hadn’t mistrusted everyone already to have his own net of spies without telling the Order..._

_Well. When Dumbledore arrived at Godric’s Hollow, it was clear that the Secret Keeper had told Voldemort where to find the Potters._

_Gods, Sirius, when are you coming back? The war is over, Voldemort is gone and Peter is on his way to Azkaban. James is heartbroken. He’s relieved that Harry is safe, but he’s heartbroken. He hasn’t just lost you, but he now lost a person that gave him a lot of support for the past three years. Peter bent over backwards to try to fill your void, you know? God only knows none of us thought he would ever do anything to harm Prongs._

_And who is left of James’ friends? A half-human, half-dead-inside werewolf that can’t even be around Harry for more than a couple of hours at a time for fear of hurting him. Gods, I’m pathetic. Not even remotely what James deserves as his only friend still around._

_Nevertheless, I’m here, and where the fuck are you, Sirius? Your father is dead. Voldemort is gone. What else can scare you so much that you can’t come back? Is it us? My god, Sirius, if you don’t know already that we will forgive you in a second, you are dafter than we ever thought._

_Just... come back. I know you are going to come back to us one day._

_Remus_

_\---_

_April 29, 1982_

_Dear Padfoot,_

_Dumbledore told us about your brother. How he was the one who gave him the information that allowed him to defeat Voldemort. And that he’s been dead since '79._

_I’m so sorry, Sirius._

_We’ll have a memorial in his honour on May 11. He’ll be remembered as a war hero. I hope you can be there._

_Harry is so big and so cute. He talks non-stop, and he’s so smart. He loves magic, and we love him very much._

_He would love you too, if only you would give him the opportunity to meet you._

_We miss you, Sirius, you know that, right? There’s not even a day that goes by without James thinking about you. Without Remus having a shadow over his eyes because you are not there. Every time Harry does something funny, I think about how you would have been a great godfather, and how well you two would get along._

_James insists that you get these letters, but I’m not so sure you do. I just hope you are safe and happy. I prefer thinking that you just left us behind than to think that you are no longer in this world._

_Love forever,_

_Lily_

\---

“Remus, is that you?”

“Yeah, Lily! Happy equinox!”

“Happy equinox! Did you put the aconite in - WAIT, HARRY, I’M NOT DONE! God, I never get to -”

“Uncle Remus!”

“Hey, Haz! C’mere, let’s go to the garden to see the magical flowers dance to welcome spring, shall we?”

“Thank you, Remus - James, is that the door? Is someone else coming? Can you get it?”

“Yeah, I’ll go. Hey, Moony!”

“Hey, James! Are you coming with us to see the plants?”

“James?”

“Is everything alright, Lily? James? Harry, would you stay here playing with your magical stones for a second, please?”

“Alright!”

When Remus enters the living room, he understands why everyone is silent. It’s the 20th of April of 1985, and Sirius Black is at the door of the Potters’. It’s been seven years, and he’s as handsome as ever. 

He’s handsome even with wary eyes, tired shoulders and guilt all over his face. 

It’s seven years too late, and he has the audacity to make eye contact with Remus Lupin for good five seconds. 

James suddenly yelps and throws his arms around his childhood best friend. Sirius hugs him. 

Lily is crying.

And Remus is speechless because after almost seven years, Sirius Black is back.

\---

After a few hectic minutes where Lily floos over to the Weasleys to leave Harry with them, they settle down at the kitchen table in what feels like a scene right out of one of Remus’ dreams - only he’s not sure if it’s a happy dream or a bizarre nightmare. 

He knows he still looks surprised, a bit aloof maybe. All in all, he feels relieved to see Sirius alive. He’s out of sorts, confused and with something uncomfortable settling in his belly, but even with that, he’s disconcerted by the lack of anger he feels. 

James is delighted, and Lily, even though she’s usually more cautious, can’t stop crying and laughing between hiccups. 

So Remus sits down and takes Lily’s hand to comfort her while James asks Sirius how he is, if he heard about the end of the war, where he’s been, and if this is real, and if he knows about Regulus death, because fuck, they are so sorry about that. Sirius sits there, like the calm before a storm, all thunder and heavy silences that give Remus all sorts of déjà vu. Sirius acts like he’s the same person, even though there’s no way - _no way -_ he is after seven years. He says he’s sorry, so sorry, everyone, for going away without saying anything, but he needed to sort out some things about his family, and yeah, he has known about the end of the war, he’s kept a close eye on England’s wizarding affairs even though he couldn’t get back. He’s been travelling around the world to try to solve some problems his family caused, and then he lived in France for a short time, but now he’s back, for real, and he’s not leaving, and if they could forgive him because there hasn’t been a day that he hasn’t regretted leaving without saying goodbye or giving some explanation, but he had to, he had to, they have to believe him, he had to do something to try to help Regulus - but he failed and Regulus is now dead, he knows, and he’s also sorry about that. He wishes he could have done more.

Sirius' face is like stone, even though his eyes and voice show desperation, and it’s like nothing can touch him, but everything gets to him anyway. Remus’ thumb keeps up its rhythmic movement over Lily’s hand.

Sirius shouldn't be the same, but nevertheless, he seems to be - he doesn’t cry, but there’s pain, real pain about losing his friends and having to stay away. The I-don’t-want-to-talk-about-this look when talking about Regulus is so identical to the one he had back at school that James leaves it alone right away and starts talking about Harry, magic, and how much he missed him. And of course, Lily is in no position to ask more about Regulus, so Remus bites his tongue. 

He's getting unsettled about how generic Sirius’ explanations are, and how easily James cuts him slack. Still, he bites his tongue because there’s something dark in Sirius’ eyes that reassures Remus that he has been in pain.

And contrary to what he half-expected from himself, Remus doesn’t feel good about that.

Sirius looks at him from time to time, but he does it at weird parts of the conversation, like when he says _I couldn’t, I swear I couldn’t_ , or _I thought about all of you every day_ , or even the _I don’t deserve your forgiveness._

The _thank-yous_ and _I love you, mate, I’m sorry I wasn’t here,_ and _I promise I’m not leaving again_ are all for James, though. 

After a couple of hours, Remus feels dizzy and like his heart is too big and too small at the same time. Lily’s hand is clammy between his fingers and his thumb has stopped tracing her knuckles a while ago. So when James says “where are you staying?” and Sirius dodges the question - one more question he doesn’t fully answer, and Remus feels for him, he does, and he has forgiven him already, he has, but he can’t take it anymore, he’s tired and dizzy and anger crawls into his stomach -, Remus has had enough of this. So he gets up and manages to mumble, “I’m glad you are back, Sirius, but I’m dead tired and I need to go finish a potion,” before running out of the kitchen with Sirius’ eyes burning a hole into his back.

He thinks it’s the first thing he’s said to Sirius thus far, aside from a few “what?”s after this or that explanation that didn’t quite make sense. 

\---

Remus breathes deeply when he’s out of the house. The day feels frozen in time, and time has been running in circles, and he’s not that sure of what he thinks or feels. With Sirius in it, the world seems to become a whirl of colour, sounds and words that carry little significance. As he sat at the table, time slipped in front of his eyes, through his fingers clutching Lily’s hand, dissolving into nothingness under his feet. 

He breathes again and with shaky hands pulls a cigarette out of his pocket, the acrid smoke making his mind stop for a second. He thinks of Sirius’ explanations that weren’t actual explanations - more similar to Remus’ expert maneuvers to avoid a topic than to Sirius’ blunt descriptions of motives and causes. He would be worried about the man not being Sirius if it wasn’t for the vague recollection he has of Lily asking him about the time the two of them kissed, which made Sirius laugh - the same raspy, rich laugh from all those years ago - and describe in full detail their little adventure in Hufflepuff’s dungeon when they were in Fifth year, and how Lily’s lips had some sort of sticky thing that he later learnt was Muggle make-up.

Remus can’t stop himself from blushing at the memory of how that night ended with Sirius’ mouth over his own, with Sirius’ hands pushing him roughly against a wall in one of the secret passageways, with both of them groping each other through their trousers. He blushes even though it’s been almost ten years since then, and feels guilt growing under his ribs at the resurgence of desire. He takes another drag of his cigarette and starts walking away from his friends’ house - he could Apparate from outside the gate but he needs to collect himself, so he thinks about going to the pub in town and flooing from there. James and Lily had to have been really stumped by Sirius' presence to not realize how weird it was that Remus was leaving by the front door and not by the fireplace.

As soon as he starts moving he can hear the front door opening. He tries to walk faster, _get away, get away,_ his brain urges, but the only thing he manages to do is to make his breathing ragged. He can feel that it’s Sirius, and the whole point of going out was to _not_ see him, was to have time to process this; to put some order to his messed up feelings, where confusion and anger are starting to gain weight over relief and shock.

“Moony, wait,” Sirius whispers, but it’s like a shock of electricity. Remus bolts.

“Don’t call me that,” he says, sharp and edgy, and he would be surprised that his whisper sounds threatening, but he doesn’t think anything can surprise him anymore today.

Sirius looks back at him with sharp, warm pain. Remus feels anger boiling in his veins and the memories of his broken heart start creeping into his mind.

“You don’t get to call me that anymore, Sirius. Not after you left. Not after that shite explanation you just gave us,” he says after a beat, and his voice sounds foreign to his ears because it’s calm and collected, like he’s explaining to Harry why he can’t have more ice-cream, or that he can’t go to stay with him during the full moon, even though his dad can.

“I won’t hold a grudge against you for the rest of my life," he says after a pause where they look at each other. "But I won’t let you hurt James. I won’t let you hurt us,” He adds, still whispering - but now the secrecy seems to betray him and show how vulnerable and broken he feels, dragging with it all the love he put in the letters that he sent to Sirius. The mixture of shame, anger and desire burn him, and he never expected to feel it in any moment other than when he’s about to turn into a wolf and _the hunger_ claws at the borders of his mind. “If you want to prove that you won’t hurt us, the _least_ you can do is explain, properly, where the _hell_ you’ve been over these years. And what the _fuck_ you were doing that you couldn’t even be arsed to pick up a quill to tell us that you were, I don’t know, alive? still out there?” his voice rises, and he tries to stop his hands from shaking, but he can’t, he just can’t.

He should turn around and leave. Sirius’ eyes are still grey and so, so deep, so Remus just takes a deep breath and waits. He feels his anger ebb away, and sadness finally gets to him. 

“You hurt us so much, Sirius. So fucking much. I should be unable to forgive you, you know? Still, all this time later, I can’t manage to stay angry at you, to hate you,” he says, defeated, his voice getting lower again. “Instead, I’m mostly upset that you won’t say shite about where you’ve been. Don’t we deserve the truth, at least?”

Remus lets his cigarette fall to the ground. He stomps on it, even though it’s already out. The silence extends between them. Remus keeps his eyes firmly on the ground.

“What do you want me to say, Remus?” Sirius rasps. _There’s something broken inside of him_ , Remus thinks, feeling his heart clenching. “Want me to say that I went after Regulus to try to save him and failed miserably? That I tried to stop him from getting branded, and then to take him away from his oath to Voldemort, but that the magic from that fucking Mark was too strong, so I couldn’t? That I tried to find an answer in the deep magic of sorcerers and warlocks from around the world, but that I couldn’t find anything, except that I’ve left my brother alone to despair, to get himself killed?” Sirius pauses to take a shaky breath and Remus can only gape at him. “Want me to tell you that I couldn’t come back because I didn’t know how to face you all - and, and that I got cursed by my mother; that she managed to curse me from halfway across the world so that I couldn’t come back to England because I didn’t deserve to be in the same place that my dead brother’s bones were?” Sirius looks down to the white daisies growing just a few feet to his left. There’s something deadly in the way the white petals shine in the dark. 

Remus thinks Sirius might be crying, but he’s not sure. The Sirius Black he knew never cried. 

“Would that help you?” comes the broken whisper that Remus barely catches.

Remus’ hands itch to take Sirius’, and he wants to sink his nose in the crook of his neck, but he stays where he is. He can only look to the sky, where sharp, cold stars shine above them, twinkling so, so bright against the darkness of the new moon.

His mind keeps repeating over and over again the only words that Sirius said about them.

“Why couldn’t you face us?” he asks, and he can hear that he sounds sad, tired, and so, so small in the silence of the dark night. He looks at Sirius, and Remus thinks, idly, that he looks like someone giving up after a battle. Remus has seen that look so many times.

Sirius is silent for so long that Remus can feel anger biting back into his bones. They keep eye contact until Sirius goes back to looking at the daisies. When he speaks again, it is with an old, serene voice that makes a chill run down Remus’ back.

“I did things I shouldn’t have.”

Remus is about to start again about the unspecific shit Sirius is pulling, when he realizes that Sirius _is_ crying and that his eyes are begging, begging, begging. 

And something snaps inside of Remus because just with that, he doesn’t _care_ anymore. He doesn’t need to know, not right now. So, with all the air abandoning his lungs, he lets his feet guide him, and before he can understand what he’s doing, he’s hugging Sirius, pulling him against his chest. Sirius lets his weight fall against Remus and cries silently. 

Remus doesn’t care about the details of Sirius’ life without his friends, not with Sirius’ hands on his back, squeezing him so tightly, or with Sirius’ breaths tickling his neck.

He doesn’t care, even though his heart is breaking and a voice inside his head screams to him to stay mad, to demand more information. He doesn’t care because he always knew that things would be like this.

\---

_March 10, 1980_

_Do you ever think about me, Sirius? Does my face appear in your mind in the middle of cold nights, when the wind is too strong, the shadows too dark, and your heart too lost?_

_Do you think about my eyes as I think about yours, looking at me in the mornings, warm and still heavy with sleep? Do you think about how I looked at you when I thought nobody was paying attention?_

_Or maybe you remember other things, like the summer of '77 when I visited you at the Potters’, and we walked by the lake - just the two of us - and we didn’t say a word for an hour, and then, out of the blue, you asked me if I remembered everything from the moons, and I said yes, most of the times I do, and you smiled at me and started talking about what you wanted to do during the rest of summer, just like that. And I started laughing because I couldn’t believe it was that simple to talk to you. And even though you didn’t know why I was laughing, you started laughing too, and suddenly everything was back in place after everything that had happened in sixth year._

_Do you remember when you asked me if I would prefer to live in space or in the woods, and I said in the woods, and you said in space? I thought your question was so dumb at the time and I laughed so much at it._

_Now I can only think that I want to change my answer. I want to be surrounded by the same emptiness I feel inside. I prefer the silence of space to the rage of the war following me around the woods. I want to be in space with you._

_Do you remember when in third year you put a blindfold over my eyes and took me to the Astronomy tower because it was my birthday? My heart was beating so fast, and I couldn’t believe you had a surprise for me. And then you took off the blindfold, and it was only to find Prongs with his broom, ready to give me a flying lesson. It was the last thing I wanted for my birthday, and I think you knew it. And still, the two of you managed to convince me to jump onto that broom and follow you, even though I hadn’t managed to do shit at the flying lessons back in first year. I managed to land without crashing against a tree, and I felt invincible._

_Do you remember when in sixth year you kissed me in my bed, and you took my hand and put it over your chest, and you told me that I made your heart race?_

_I do. I remember. It’s all I've got right now._

_Cheers. Happy birthday to me._

_R._

_\---_

“No, over here!”

“Shhh, you’ll get us kicked out, Ann!”

“Ah, don’t worry, it’s alright.”

Now, Remus is usually full of patience and he’s proud of having a great capacity to shut out the world when he needs to. He can usually work amongst the lines of old tomes of the library even with the cold air that forces him to wear a scarf in summer, and the barely-there lighting that makes him put books almost against his nose to read them. 

But the thing is that Remus has been completely out of balance since his encounter with Sirius Black three days ago. He has slept poorly, so he’s unfocused and making mistakes that have slowed down his work rhythm to a sluggish drag. That’s why he’s about to get up and ask the women to please lower their voices so he can keep perusing the old parchment he’s supposed to translate.

THUD.

“Put it back, put it back.”

“Shit, shit, why is the rack still shaking?”

“Told you these books have more magic in them than a fucking Short-Snout, but there you go, just pulling at them without even -”

Remus finally looks up at the two witches quarrelling in hushed voices, but they fade into the background when a dark figure on the other side of the library catches his eye.

Just the outline of Sirius’ figure makes Remus’ blood run faster. Before he realizes it, he’s crossing the room, leaving his work scattered on the table. He can hear the girls run towards the door, trying to flee the scene.

He idly wonders what Sirius is doing here, but it's just a soft voice on the back of his head, mixed with all the other questions about Sirius Black that he has been mulling over the past few days. They are in a highly secured area of Cambridge’s magical library, and the aisle where Sirius is, is definitely devoted to the dark arts.

The buzz of thoughts quietens down though as soon as he's closer to Sirius, because the world shuts down at Sirius' expression of happiness at the sight of Remus.

“Hey,” Sirius says softly.

“Hello, " Remus answers, slightly awkward. And before he can stop his mouth, he's asking, "what are you doing here, Sirius?” more gently than he intended.

Sirius blinks at him for just a second, his expression unreadable. Remus’ heart aches at the thought of how that was impossible at one point of their lives - there wasn’t an expression on Sirius’ face he couldn’t decode.

He could even tell when Sirius was _thinking_ of kissing him.

“I’m doing some research,” Sirius finally says. He keeps his eyes trained on Remus, and Remus feels his cheeks warming up. He feels pissed off at himself for reacting like he’s still a teenager.

“No, not what are you doing _here_ , Sirius - why are you back in England?” he mumbles, uncomfortable. He wasn’t planning a confrontation when he saw Sirius here, but the sudden reappearance of the man in his life has done a number on Remus. Sirius frowns and looks to the floor for a second. 

“This is where I belong to, Remus,” and Sirius' honesty disarms him. “I understand if you are upset by seeing me - I’ll make sure to be out of your way as much as I can. I’m sorry -”

“I - no, it’s not that Sirius. I - I’m glad you are back. I can’t believe you are back, and I _want_ you to be here with us, it’s just…” he sighs, and runs his fingers through his hair, frustrated with himself. “I don’t know. You were gone for so long, and I want to understand what is going on because I can feel that something is not right -”

Remus stops talking, the question about the _why now_ dying in his mouth because Sirius’ eyes flash with something dangerous and primal that makes him hold his breath.

It's not that Remus is scared, it's just that this is something he’d never seen in Sirius.

“Remus,” Sirius says, and it’s so soft, his name so sweet in his mouth, his gaze warming up again. “Ah, I don’t - I can’t - I’m sorry,” he stutters brokenly, and Remus understands that it's not only that he can't explain, but that he's _sorry._

Remus breathes in, and once again, all the need to _know_ vanishes at the look of pain in Sirius’ face. He nods, resigned.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry if I was rude, I…” he trails off, and he lets his shoulder sag against the bookshelf. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. I’m sorry.”

Sirius shakes his head, and a mournful silence comes between them.

“I work here, you know?” Remus says in a whisper. “I study old magic, but I can probably help you with your research, whatever it is about. You don’t have to explain it to me. Just - just let me help you, yeah?”

_Ah, shit_ , he thinks, cringing at the eagerness in his voice. He should be guarded, he should be expecting a new stab to his heart. He is, he realizes, hating himself, but he doesn’t really care. Not when it comes to Sirius.

Sirius’ hand jerks forward like he’s about to touch Remus’ cheek, but he stops himself.

“Remus…” Sirius whispers, grabbing the bookshelf instead, his knuckles going pale. Remus finds himself holding his breath. _What are you doing_ , he asks himself when he realizes that he’s taking a step closer, his head coming to rest against the wood of the rack. _What the hell are you doing_ , he thinks again. Sirius’ eyes are looking at him with such intensity, that he can feel his breath speeding up. “I couldn’t - I can’t… I don’t want to put you at risk.”

“No,” Remus says quickly, resolutely. He can see Sirius’ resolve shaking. How little self-love he has, he wonders, to be here, begging Sirius to let him back into his life when it should be the other way around. “Please, Sirius. Let me help you. You won’t put me at risk.” His voice goes softer, more urgent. Sirius' eyes are dark and stormy. “I won’t ask anything if you don’t want me to, I promise. But let me just… Let me...”

Sirius looks to the floor, frown set. Remus waits. He might not know this version of Sirius, but there are things that he can _feel_ deep inside his bones when it comes to this man. He waits, patiently, the dark magic of the books close to his shoulder making him feel colder and colder.

Sirius closes his eyes, sighs, and nods. Remus feels his heartbeat picking up.

“Alright - I can use your help. I promise I’ll tell you as much as I can, but please,” and his eyes are open and vulnerable all the sudden. “Please, don’t ask me more than I can tell you.”

Remus nods, solemnly. He can feel his magic wrapping around him with the promise.

“I can do that.”

Sirius nods again and swallows. He doesn’t break the eye contact.

“I need to figure out how dead people’s magic works. It’s because of the curse my mother left me with. She’s dead, you see, but it’s still affecting me. Do you know anything about that?”

Remus can feel his heart clenching at the thought - _how much more damage can Sirius’ family do, that even in her tomb, Walburga has power over her disowned son._ He nods again.

“Yeah, I can help you. Let me check some books and we can go to my table to work.” 

A shadow of a smile crosses Sirius’ face, and he nods, following Remus between the aisles.

\---

_September 8, 1981_

_Sirius,_

_I don’t know if you get our letters, but I have no one else to go to. I guess I just need to unwind a bit and the idea that you might get some reason into your head and decide to come back… I don’t know, you are kind of my last hope. Things are going to hell here and I think you are the only one who may be able to change the path we are going down, but you are nowhere to be found._

_I’m scared. No, I’m terrified. You would probably mock me for that, wouldn’t you? I was never good at being a Gryffindor and there wasn’t a moment you would waste to remind me of that. Even with the whole Animagus project, you couldn’t help yourself, could you? Wee, disgusting little Peter, incapable of transforming into something dignified that could serve the purpose of keeping Remus in check. Not that my opinion ever mattered, not that I actually helped in more ways than you ever gave me credit for…_

_I’m terrified, Padfoot. I don’t know if I’m going to survive this - this weird thing that everyone calls a war, but that, I don’t know, I’m not an expert, but looks more like a massacre. I’m not sure any of us are going to survive this._

_James and Lily were approached by Voldemort at the beginning of the war and were offered a chance to join him, and of course, they refused. I think Remus has been offered the chance to switch sides too, by other werewolves. Sometimes I wish they would have taken the offer so they can survive after we lose. Is that a horrible thing to think? I’m sure you would think so. I don’t know anymore. I don’t know. The only thing I know is that I don’t think we’ll survive if we are not willing to do something extreme. I don’t know what that is - maybe find Voldemort’s den and burn it down with Fiendfyre, so that no one can escape, or something else equally stupid. I don’t see any other way out._

_Padfoot, you have to get back, if you are still out there. You have to. Someone needs to calm James down, because he’s thinking of going out of hiding to fight again, and the only one that could convince him that that’s the stupidest thing to do right now, since not even Lily is managing to do so, would be you. And Remus is pulling away - he’s been pulling away since you left. He needs you to take care of himself because Merlin knows he would do anything for you. I mean it. I don’t think you know that, but he would. And he needs you to tell him that he has to stop going with the werewolves, even if Dumbledore himself is the one asking. He’s hurting himself during the fulls. He is so skinny, and he looks utterly broken. I don’t know what else to do to take care of them, Sirius, I really don’t. I shouldn’t be taking care of them, I can barely stand the weight of the war on my own shoulders._

_Both of them, Prongs and Moony, they were way too invested in your life. I think as soon as you would give a sign that you are alive, James would go out of his way to find you, and Remus would go crazy thinking about what he can do to make sure you are alright, even if he has to bleed himself to death to make sure you can come back. And he would do it without a second thought._

_Sometimes I think I’m the only one with any reason left. We are losing this war and I’m the only one who can see this._

_P.P._

_\---_

“No, no, leave it!”

“Oh, come on, Remus, you know I can handle myself in the kitchen.”

“Mmm, maybe, but I want to do this.”

“Aww, you want to make my favourite dessert?”

“Oh, shut up, it’s also Prongs’ favourite.’”

“Yeah, but you are doing it for me, aren’t you?”

“No, no, stop it, don’t put your cold hands on my neck, you prick!”

“Sirius, can you come to help me with the drinks for a bit?” Lily calls from the door, making the two of them freeze. Remus feels a blush expanding on his face. Lily stays there until Sirius gets out of the kitchen, a frown on her face.

It’s been three weeks since Sirius reappeared in their lives and turned everything upside down. After Sirius agreed to receive help from Remus, he started showing up at the library almost every day. Things were a bit tense at first, but both of them were experts at ignoring feelings and cover them with work, so Remus just set himself to write down parchment after parchment with book references for Sirius, that Sirius devour without comment.

But within days, and after a couple of close calls for Remus with his colleagues, they had an awkward conversation where Sirius asked him to keep helping him, without actually saying that - so they decided to move their work to Sirius’ flat. Sirius implied he prefered working at Remus’, but Remus refused to take him to his flat, so, reluctantly, Sirius gave him a password for the Floo that took Remus to a flat that wasn’t Sirius' old one - the one that James had paid for and without a doubt, offered to Sirius now that he was back. When Remus got there the first time, he could feel the old magic and sense the Disillusionment charms over every window so he couldn’t know where they were.

Everything inside the flat made him think of ‘temporary’. 

After a week of Remus’ visits, Sirius started to relax, and something like friendship surged between them. Sirius waited for Remus with tea, biscuits and a soft smile, and he charmed a blanket to stay snuggly on Remus’ cold feet. 

It was clear that neither of them wanted to tread into banned topics, so they barely talked about their lives outside of the out-of-time, out-of-space flat - or Sirius didn’t talk, and Remus filled the silence with idle chat about Lily and James, and the books he was reading.

After the moon - two weeks after Sirius had reappeared - things seemed to change between them. Remus wasn’t sure why, because the moon had passed by like every other month, with him under the effects of the Wolfsbane potion that Lily had made, and with James keeping him company in his Animagus form, yet the moon brought a new cycle. Sirius seemed more open, even though he didn’t talk about his research or why he still hadn’t found answers to his questions. Remus had only made a couple of mistakes regarding asking things he shouldn’t at the beginning of their work together - one day he had said, idly, that the medium in which Sirius had been cursed could be critical, especially if he hadn’t been cursed with a verbal spell. Sirius had gone quiet and stiff, and Remus had apologized immediately, adding that he would read more about the general principles of the different ways the mediums could affect a curse, and write the references for Sirius to look up. Sirius had looked at him intently, and then had just nodded, looking half heartbroken, half grateful. He then had gotten up and made tea, and started asking Remus about his job. Remus had accepted the warm tea and the peace offering, and had told him some of his favourite stories about work.

After the moon, day after day, they started talking more about Remus’ life, but they also started flirting. Remus wasn’t sure how it started, but he knew it was easier than accepting Sirius’ silences about his past. The flirting was familiar, and it was like a promise about parts of their friendship that they could still rebuild - the banter, the jokes, the smirks. Even though this version of Sirius was calmer and more guarded, and even though Remus had been hurt, it felt like there were parts of them that had escaped unharmed.

They met almost every weekday, but Remus hadn't mentioned his relationship with Kingsley. He wasn’t sure why - or, more likely, he didn’t want to examine why. He convinced himself that it was because he prefered to leave parts of his life to himself, to guard himself against the potential harm that Sirius could cause, but it was also that Kingsley slipped right out of Remus’ mind when he was with Sirius. Every day though, as he left Sirius’ flat Kingsley reappeared like a shadow that caused a dull, throbbing pain, fueled by guilt on the back of his head. 

Maybe he hadn’t mentioned his nice, loving partner because he was scared that that would make Sirius stop the casual touches and soft looks he cast in Remus’ direction.

On the third week after Sirius’ return, Remus noticed how their research moved slowly towards other topics - counter-curses and the potential effects of curses gone wrong. He hoarded every bit of information he gathered, hoping to put the pieces of the puzzle together at some point. 

Guilt still bit him at the core.

So when Remus got the owl inviting him to the Potters', he hadn’t realized how much their relationship had changed in the past weeks - he could only see it now, through Lily’s suspicious eyes that he pointedly ignores.

He realizes he touches Sirius too much, one hand coming to his shoulder as they laugh. He puts his hand on the small of Sirius' back when they pass close by on the corridors of the house. They keep eye contact for longer than necessary when the other is talking. 

A part of him knows that this is a dangerous road. The other part doesn’t care.

So when they sit at the table, Sirius across from Remus with his eyes fixed on him, the pull of those eyes is so strong, that without thinking about it, Remus’ foot searches for Sirius’. When they make contact, he leaves it there. He leaves it there even when Sirius moves his leg to intertwine their ankles. 

This is a bit further than their flirting has gone thus far, Remus knows it.

“Oh, Re, I meant to ask you - how is Kingsley doing? You haven’t brought him around in a long time.”

Sirius’ foot stills on its way up his calf. Over the table, Sirius just looks at him, blankly, while he takes a gulp of wine. Remus feels heat on his face.

“He’s fine, Lily,” and he even manages to smile politely, even though he knows Lily’s question isn’t innocent. He answers measuredly, like talking about his boyfriend with Sirius’ leg tangled with his own is the most natural thing in the world. “He’s been busy with work lately, but he likes that, so it’s all good,” he says with a shrug, pushing some food into his mouth. He glances at Sirius, whose eyes are darker now. His whole attention is on Remus, even as he puts his goblet back on the table. 

“Shacklebolt?” Sirius asks, casually, while his foot tangles on the back of Remus’ knee, wiggling its way there. Remus’ breath hitch.

He can feel James’ and Lily’s eyes on him when he nods.

“Yeah. Haven’t I mentioned him?” he asks dumbly and takes a large gulp of water. He glances at the Potters, and he can see that James is just looking at him with _that_ smile; the one he always get since he and Kingsley got together six months ago, and that Remus has come to realize means _I’m so happy you are with him, Remus, he’s so good for you_. Lily, for her part, looks ready to kill.

“Remus’ boyfriend,” Lily adds, resolutely, even though Remus thinks that that was quite clear. Sirius’ shoe tip ghosts over Remus’ inner thigh. “He works at the Ministry now.” 

“Ah, I see. Still plays Quidditch?” Sirius asks, casually.

“We have an amateur league on Sundays. You are welcome to come to watch, Padfoot. Maybe you can join us next season,” says James, enthusiastically.

Remus chokes on his water when Sirius’ shoe pushes harder against his thigh. He should feel ashamed, but instead he pushes his legs further apart, in case Sirius decides to keep moving his foot. His other foot finds Sirius’ leg, and he stamps on his shoe softly, not sure if he’s giving him a warning or asking him to keep going.

“Oh, James, I just remembered, I needed to ask you something for work,” Remus then says forcefully, in an effort to think of something else, _anything else_ other than that foot pushing rhythmically against his leg. He’s going crazy, and he just wants Sirius’ foot to keep going, to undo him right here, in front of his closest friends. James gets up to collect the dishes, and Remus pushes Sirius’ foot to the floor. Lily’s eyes are like a hawk over him at the soft _thud_ against the floor. 

“Yeah, how can I help, Moony?”

“Well,” he clears his throat, trying to get rid of the note of arousal he can hear in his voice. “I’ve been having trouble with a translation about an old curse from Spain, and the library copy of _Curses before Curses: Maldiciones de España_ has been checked out, and I remember seeing a copy of it at your parents’ library. Any chance you know where it might be now?”

“Well, most of my parents’ books are at the old summer house. You can go and have a look. I’ll set the wards for you for the next weekend, does that work?”

“Ah, thank you, Prongs, it means a lot,” Remus answers, feeling blood moving back to his brain.

“No problem, Moony.” 

Sirius smiles at him, broadly.

“Hey, James? Can you set the wards so that I can go too? I would love to take a look at the old house. Maybe the four of us can go for the weekend? Well, even the _five_ of us, if Shacklebolt wants to join,” he adds, looking at Remus, eyes dark and daring. Remus just looks back, questioningly.

They haven’t told the Potters about their research: Sirius had asked Remus to keep it to himself, and Remus is pretty sure that, even if James acts like they’ve picked up their friendship right from where they left it, he’s also more careful after Peter. James would make a fuss about Remus helping Sirius with something bordering on taboo, so he agreed with Sirius about keeping them out of it. Remus wonders what Sirius is playing at here, because if they want to advance Sirius' research, they can’t have James and Lily there.

“I’m afraid we can’t,” says Lily, looking intently at the two of them, making Remus cast down his eyes guiltily, adrenaline rushing through his veins at the thought of having two days alone with Sirius. “We are having Neville over for the weekend, and we promised Harry that we would take them to the Zoo.”

“I’ll lift the wards for you two and Kingsley, in case he wants to join you, then!” James yells from the kitchen, and Remus breathes out relieved when Lily gets up to bring the dessert, petting Remus’ hair softly on her way out of the room.

A bit later, when Remus is shrugging into his coat and Sirius’ and James’ voices can barely be heard from the kitchen, Lily takes his hand and squeezes it. “Be careful,” she says. Remus smiles sadly because of the wine. “I’m not sure I can promise you that,” he answers in a raspy whisper, and squeezes her hand back.

\---

_May 1, 1983_

_I’m seeing somebody._

_I think it might work this time. I think I can learn how to leave the war behind. He’s good for me, and I can learn to be good for him._

_I wish I could learn how to leave you behind too._

_R._

_\---_

Remus told Kingsley about Sirius being back, of course he did. Kingsley tried to talk about Remus’ feelings, but he managed to brush him off. Still, Kingsley is there, firm and serene as always, and after the weekend with Sirius at the Potters' summer house, he feels guiltier than ever, so when Lily and James invite them for dinner the week before the full, he takes Kingsley with him. When they arrive at the Potters, Sirius is already there, and he fixes Remus with a look that completely disarms him.

Nothing happened between Sirius and Remus on the weekend at James’ summer house. Well, nothing _clear._ They flirted, they worked on Sirius’ research, they cuddled for hours and fell asleep together. Sirius’ breath tickled the back of Remus’ neck, making Remus hard. He pretended not to notice Sirius’ darkened gaze in the mornings, and kept pretending he didn’t look at Sirius in the same way during the day.

They waded into the ocean and lay under the sun and Remus' fingers trailed over Sirius’ back with the excuse of taking sand off.

Still, in the two weeks after their short trip to the Potters' summer house, things seemed to calm down between them, even though they stood too close while having tea, and Sirius touched Remus’ hair when he walked behind him on his way to the kitchen. They might be edging back into a friendship, Remus had thought, even as Sirius stood behind his shoulder to read together, breathing softly on Remus’ neck.

Remus managed to keep himself in check, reminding himself that sex, or whatever, wasn’t why he was there. He was there because he wanted to help Sirius, because he wanted him to be alright, he wanted him in his life - so he tried to stay focused on the task, even though he felt like he was running towards something inevitable. 

He felt warm and fuzzy as he noticed that Sirius looked less gloomy in the week after their trip, like it was easier to smile, easier to joke. Sirius even started talking about his days a bit - what he ate, that he was sorting through things related to the Blacks' properties, or that he had met James. Remus didn’t ask further questions, but gladly took what he was offered.

They had their hands full with the books they had retrieved from the Potters', so Remus was happy with the short talks about their lives.

In the second week after their trip, Sirius started disappearing into his bedroom with some flimsy excuses for an hour or so every other day. When that happened, Remus stood in the living room, his feet warm under his blanket, his focus stubbornly drifting from the written words to the silence that came from the closed door of Sirius' bedroom. 

Before Sirius got back, dinners at the Potters' were just that - easy jokes, good food, heartwarming moments. This time it’s more of a battlefield than Remus ever thought it could be. Things are tense because Sirius keeps his eyes on him, and Remus can’t stop himself from sustaining the eye contact and loaded silences. Kingsley is soft and warm as always, but also firm and real as he puts a hand on Remus' shoulder and kindly tries to redirect his attention towards him when Remus gets lost in Sirius’ tidal pull.

Remus can't stop himself. He even looks for excuses to be alone with Sirius - and so when they go to the kitchen to do the dishes, Sirius crowds him against a counter,. Remus can feel himself getting hard, and his breathing getting laboured, and _what the fuck is he thinking_ , because Kingsley is right outside the kitchen and Sirius is asking him if he and Kingsley live together with heat in his gaze and cruelty in his words. Remus only manages to shake his head before Sirius’ lips touch his neck, every hair on Remus’ nape standing up at the touch. Remus fears that everyone would be able to hear his breathing from the dining room, but before he can properly process what’s going on, the door of the kitchen creaks and Sirius jumps back and has a pile of dishes in his hands before Lily sets foot in the room. She looks at Remus with furrowed eyebrows as he leans against the counter, trying to calm down.

Remus knows that Kingsley has too much self-love to be prone to jealousy and that he wouldn’t let himself be reduced to be part of a game of push-and-pull, and because of that, Remus feels even more guilty. When they get back to the dining room, Kingsley is patient and doesn’t react to Sirius’ barely masked challenges, and he quietly makes sure that Sirius understands that _he won’t fall for this, but that Sirius should know that Remus is a great person and has been doing great things for himself while Sirius was away_.

Remus doesn’t feel like that is true though.

Kingsley tries to connect with Sirius by asking Remus about their research together, of which Kingsley only knows a general version - “ _Oh, Sirius has been coming to the library from time to time for research” -._ Remus explains, with his heart beating wildly, that it’s an assignment from work. James and Lily raise their eyebrows so he explains that he’s comparing French and English magic, and that Sirius is helping him because he lived in France for the last few years. 

He doesn’t have to see the smirk on Sirius’ face to realize how deep in shit he is - he just lied directly to his partner, didn’t even try to avoid the question like he’d done about his weekend at the Potters' summer house, or about the afternoons when he’s not available to meet with Kingsley. 

He meets Sirius’ eyes, and he can see the triumph there. And even though he feels guilty, he can’t stop the rush of arousal at everything that those eyes promise him.

\---

Remus manages to avoid an in-depth conversation with Kingsley after a couple of general answers - _don't take it personal, he's like that with everyone, he was competitive with anyone that's not a close friend even during Hogwarts; no, I'm still shocked that he's back, but I think it’s good that he's back; I'm very tired, Key, why don't you go back to your place today, we can meet on Friday because I know you have tons of work -_ but he can’t avoid his mind racing through everything that has happened since Sirius got back.

_What the hell am I doing_ , he asks to himself for what feels like the hundredth time. Remus _knows_ he's getting to the same old place he was with Sirius _before_ , and he knows he lost this battle since Sirius set his eyes on Remus that afternoon in the middle of the Potters' living room.

Remus knows Kingsley deserves better, and at the same time, Remus knows he should push Sirius away, that Kingsley is good for him, that they are a good match and what they've been building for the last six months is worth it.

The thing is, that now Remus doesn't think _he's_ worth it. He knows Kingsley deserves someone who has his shit together, who can be there for him and whose emotional baggage won't haunt him for the rest of his life. 

Remus idly wonders what he deserves. Does he _deserve_ Sirius? He always wanted him, no doubt, and Sirius seems to want him too. 

Sirius seems to be as broken as Remus, at least.

On Monday, the day of the full, Remus is on the edge - he feels like _nothing_ , full of guilt, regret, and lacking in self-restraint, knowing that he should stop himself but won’t. He’s on edge because he’s thinking about Sirius instead of Kingsley; thinking of the promises in those eyes - promises to undo him, to put him back together, to make him tremble and give up. He gets to the forest where he meets James barely on time, and in the morning, he manages to avoid James’ clumsy attempts at asking what’s going on between him and Sirius, adducing tiredness and loads of work.

In the afternoon, even though he’s tired and his bones still ache from the transformation, he decides to go to Sirius’. He received a new book that he ordered - _Breaking the broken_ : _how to diagnose and break curses gone wrong_ \- so he has an excuse to show up. They have less and less work lately, and Remus is dreading the moment Sirius tells him that he doesn’t need him anymore. 

When Remus arrives at Sirius' place, he just finds a note from explaining that he had to take care of some things and that Remus shouldn’t wait for him. Remus stays nonetheless, setting himself to work, resisting the urge to snoop around the flat. 

Remus decides to go straight home on Wednesday, too tired and unsure of himself. On Thursday, he’s back at Sirius', his heart jumping in his chest while he tosses in the Floo powder. 

Sirius is not home again, no note this time - but there's a small, black box on the middle of the coffee table. 

Remus sits down on the couch and tries to start reading about curses gone wrong during the XVI century and how they lead to the discovery of new spells, but the box is like a siren’s call. 

He gets up and before he can second guess himself, he opens it. 

There’s earth in it. A bitter taste in Remus’ mouth assures him that there’s something twisted about it.

Only then does he notice the old parchments beside the box. He sits down in Sirius’ chair and picks them up. They are full of runes, complex orders and sequences he doesn’t think he has ever seen. He feels a bit dizzy with the magic, but he manages to recognize some symbols and recall some of their meaning - most of them are related to _family, bonds_ and _price_ _to pay_. 

The front door creaks for the first time since Remus started coming here, and before he can jump away, close the box and cover his tracks, Sirius is inside the flat, gaping at Remus with haunted eyes and his hands reddened with blood.

Remus’ eyes go wide, and he tries to get up, to get to Sirius, but he’s frozen. He opens and closes his mouth.

“Remus,” Sirius says, his voice almost broken. He looks at the box and the parchments with hard eyes.

Something snaps inside of Remus at the oddly small voice coming out of Sirius’ mouth.

“Fuck, Sirius, are you alright? What the hell -?” and he’s halfway through the room, but Sirius shakes his head frantically, moving towards his bedroom.

“No, Remus,” he says firmly now. “You have to leave _now._ It’s my blood. Don’t worry, I’m _fine, but_ you have to leave _,_ ” and giving him one last look, he opens his bedroom door with a burst of wandless magic and closes it behind him.

Remus stays frozen, looking at the door. He can hear shuffling from the other side before Sirius screams, “leave, Remus.” 

Remus’ heart shatters. 

He knows he’s been treading in dangerous waters with Sirius, but he felt that they were _going somewhere_ , even though he kew he couldn't ask questions. Still, the fear at the blood on Sirius’ hands, and the pain at being left out of Sirius’ life cut deep into his soul _._ He wants to scream and topple the table with the box, the parchments, and all the books that he’s not even sure actually help Sirius. He’s not even sure if he’s being kept around for some sick game, to keep him occupied instead of asking questions, or if Sirius actually needs him.

And maybe it’s that thought that hurts the most - the idea that Sirius doesn’t need him, has never needed him in the way that Remus needs him, and that these weeks have been just, he doesn’t know, a charade, an act, a new way for Sirius to prove to himself he can have Remus back on his knees whenever he wants.

And Remus wants to scream because he knows he’s not being fair - Sirius is _hurt_ and _wouldn’t do this_ , but he’s _right behind the fucking door_ and won’t let Remus help him, won’t let him get any closer - and he shouldn’t care this much, but he _cares,_ he cares, he cares. He hates himself because he knows it’s not only because he wants Sirius to be okay because he is - he _was -_ his friend, but it’s because he wants _,_ so badly, to have Sirius back to himself.

He notices he’s trembling in the middle of Sirius’ living room, and he pushes his fingertips against his eyes until it hurts. He wants to scream and cry, break the fucking Disillusionment spells and break the door, shake Sirius and tell him _can’t you see,_ maybe punch him, _can’t you see I’m right here,_ maybe kiss him, _can’t you see I would do whatever you want me to do_ , or maybe get on his knees in front of him and beg, _can’t you see that I will do whatever you want me to do, as long as you let me stay by your side?_

He pushes his fingers more firmly against his cheeks, his forehead, his temples, until he can only feel the dull pain, and behind it, his feelings - defeat, sadness, dejection. 

He thinks for a second of staying, but in the end, he just takes a shaky breath, rips the corner of a parchment and writes down _let me know when you want us to meet again,_ and leaves.

\---

_February 10, 1980_

_James,_

_I’m sorry._

_I’m so so sorry._

_I went away because I wanted to protect Regulus, but he’s dead now. I don’t know what to do. I never thought anything could hurt this much._

_I miss you. I miss you all, but I can’t go back._

_I don’t know what to do. It’s like the pain never goes away - because it’s all my fault, you know?_

_No, of course you don’t. You would tell me it’s not my fault, that I shouldn’t feel guilty for Regulus' death._

_But the thing is, James, that I am guilty. I contacted him, convinced him that there was another option. I gave him hope, made him think… I don’t know. That getting out was possible. I gave him hope and then fucked away to try to find an answer that was non-existent. I gave him hope and made him think he needed to be like me, to play the hero._

_He was just a kid, James, and I left him in that house, first, and then I left him to despair in the middle of a war._

_Sometimes I feel I should be dead, not him._

_I can’t go back, James, because I don’t know how to. I lost my brother and then I lost him again. I need to… I don’t know. Not lose him again._

_I’m sorry._

_Sirius_

(Unsent).

\---

After being at Sirius’, Remus checks out a mountain of books from the library, trying to figure out what the runes were about. He reads book after book, but everything seems to be a bit blurry in his mind, like he’s missing a piece. 

So when the weekend arrives and Kingsley is there, sitting in front of him on his couch, silent and heavy, Remus can only think of having more time to read so he can get back to Sirius’ flat with _something_ , anything. He’s not sure if he wants an excuse to be back to help him, or to confront him.

Kingsley looks at him, sad, and just for a second, Remus remembers why less than two months ago, he was convinced that he could fall in love with this man, build a life that was worth living with him. He knows he should still want that. A part of him still wants it.

“Do you remember,” Kingsley starts, looking him steadily in the eyes, “how hurt you were when Sirius went missing?”

Remus just looks back at him.

“Because I do. I _do_ , Remus, even though we weren’t together at the time. I remember how pale you were, how desperate, and how you tried to keep it together for James.”

They stay silent, and Remus feels ashamed and full of resentment. Kingsley knows how to hurt him, and yet, he refuses to do it. He can see that he’s trying to shake him, to make him _react_ , to make him see things that Remus is not taking into account. 

He would prefer it if Kingsley would just hate him, attack, hurt him. He can see that Kingsley is trying to keep him calm, and that makes Remus hate him a bit. 

_You fight back when you are cornered_ , Kingsley had said when Remus had beaten Caradoc to a pulp after a mission for saying that the only reason that Remus didn’t consider that Black might have fucked away because he was working for Voldemort, was because Remus was an idiot who couldn’t forget _Black’s cock_ , and that maybe that was the reason why James Potter hadn’t thought about Black being faithful to his family either.

_You become a raving lunatic when you are called out_ , had said Benjy Fenwick some months before the end of the war, with his voice trembling and sadness in his eyes, while he packed his things that were scattered around Remus’ flat.

“You hated him so much such a short while ago,” Kingsley says softly, and Remus can only laugh bitterly.

“Hate him?” he asks, disbelieving. Kingsley looks back at him, long and thoughtful.

“Yes. I think it was proper hate, Remus. Whenever you thought he might be alive and not willing to answer a letter, you got angry. You used to say that after everything that happened with Peter, you knew better now.” 

Remus feels like he’s been punched in the gut at the mention of Peter.

“I know what I said after _Peter_ , you don’t have to remind me,” he says, his voice rising. 

Kingsley shakes his head and looks at him with sad eyes.

“Then you must remember how you said that now that you looked back, you could see how Sirius had just used you, and all of his friends,” he says resolutely.

_Fuck you,_ Remus thinks. 

“I think you know I never hated him,” he says instead.

“I know.”

He thinks that Kingsley is hurting, and he’s about to deepen the wound, fight back, bite back, when he realizes that the sadness in Kingsley’s eyes is not because he’s losing Remus, but because of Remus being lost.

The words die in his mouth. He suddenly realizes that there’s not much that Kingsley can say that he hasn’t said to himself.

So he listens as Kingsley points out that Remus is falling right back into the pattern of making his life revolve around Sirius. He listens to him when he points out how much Remus has to live for, how much he has fought for the life he has, how far he’s come from the eighteen-year-old boy who was left behind by his _friend._ He listens while Kingsley tries, desperately, to remind him of how happy he was with his life just two months ago. How proud he felt about himself. How happy all of his friends were about him.

He stays quiet until Kingsley pauses and looks back at Remus with tenderness. Remus has to cast his eyes away.

“I know,” he says, looking at his hands. “I know. But Sirius will always be my friend,” and Kingsley shakes his head at that, rubbing his face with his hands, but Remus pushes forward, looking at a point behind Kingsley’ shoulder. “He’ll always be one of the most important people in my life, and I have to, Key, I know you don’t understand, but I have to help him. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep him safe now that he’s back. I prefer to have him back in any form he sees fit rather than not having him at all.”

He can feel the tears in his eyes, so he just looks out of the window. The silence seems to extend forever.

“Are you sure?” 

Remus can only nod, but he manages to look back at Kingsley. He nods back, and Remus can feel something breaking inside of him.

He’s not sure of what Kingsley says next, his mind too foggy and his gaze stubbornly on a tree outside the window. He thinks that Kingsley talks about them having something good, that they could have been happy if Remus would just let go of Sirius - if he would let Sirius do his thing on his own, instead of allowing him to drag him along.

“Of course, you can’t do that, can you?”

Remus shakes his head.

Kingsley sighs.

“I can’t see you destroy yourself,” he says, and Remus nods. He can feel the tears on his face when Kingsley stands up and kisses him softly on the lips. 

It’s so warm, so tender, and Remus knows he doesn’t deserve it. 

When the fire stops sputtering green flames, he picks his tired bones off the sofa and, with a heavy sigh, goes back to his bedroom, where he curls up in the bed with a book about the principles of blood magic.

\---

_December 13, 1983_

_You know what the worst part of this is - of all of this? That I still love you. That I still want you back; to be here, to wake up with you in the mornings, to take care of each other’s wounds, to let you tear me apart._

_And I hate myself for it._

_I still fucking love you. I have loved you from when I was 15, and haven’t stopped loving you even for a day of my life since then._

_And I know I was a pastime for you, maybe something to play with, maybe something easy and uncomplicated. I was always there when you wanted me, wasn’t I? Easy, willing to adore you._

_But I love you, even to this day, and that makes me miserable._

_I wonder if knowing this would make you feel better or worse._

_I hope it’s the latter._

_R._

_\---_

Remus continues his research about Sirius’ runes for two weeks, in which he only sees his colleagues at the library. He’s exhausted and second-guessing his decision about Kingsley, but he _needs_ to know more about what might be going on with Sirius.

He doesn’t see Sirius in those two weeks, mostly because Sirius doesn’t answer his owls. He tries to stay calm and focused on his books so he can come across something relevant that might work as an excuse to apparate to his house.

He doesn’t attend dinner with James and Lily, arguing that he needs time after his break up with Kingsley - and he does, but also, he can’t imagine talking with Sirius at the Potters’, acting like nothing happened the last time they saw each other. 

In the second week, when Lily writes to him asking him to join her for drinks, he knows he can’t keep avoiding his friends forever. He’ll have to answer questions at some point, and he misses Harry a lot, so he’ll just have to clench his teeth and face Lily.

His night out with Lily is actually pretty nice - she’s very sweet and doesn’t push him, so they talk about her job, Harry and his break up. Remus leaves the references to Sirius out of his story. It's not like Lily doesn’t see right through him, but she has mercy and just squeezes his fingers.

It’s only after an hour that Remus manages to casually ask her about the runes that he thought meant _price_ and _ties_ , and the black box that was possibly going to be carved with them. Of course, he says it has to do with work, and he’s graceful enough to wait to ask his question after Lily brings the topic of Remus’ work research. She frowns and thinks for a long time.

“I’m not sure,” and she worries her lip, “and I don’t want to mislead you… but if you are truly out of clues and the context of the book where you found these references doesn’t say much more, well. I would guess that it might relate to necromancy. At least it feels like that.”

Remus’ world freezes. _Of course,_ he thinks. _I did things I shouldn’t have done_ , hadn’t Sirius said? 

He gets to his feet without meaning to, and he mumbles _fuck, thank you, Lily, I can’t believe I didn’t think of that,_ and _I have to go now_ , _sorry_ before Lily’s warm fingers stop him by the wrist. 

“Re,” she says softly, “before you go… I wanted to ask you about Sirius.”

Remus swallows and looks to the floor.

“What about him?”

“Can you please sit down?” and she’s also kind, like Kingsley was, but Lily is not Kingsley, and she has never said _you pull away when someone tries to get closer_ , so he complies. “I wanted to ask you about your feelings for him,” she says, like they are back in Sixth year, when things were simple enough.

“Well…” he tries to put words together. “I don’t know, Lily. I care about him. I’m glad he’s back. I’m actually very happy he’s back. Haven’t seen him in a few weeks now though,” he adds, not sure where he’s going with this. He’s not going to say _I love him, I would do anything for him_ , not to Lily.

“I’m just worried about you, Re. I think,” and she is talking softly and slowly, and Remus can only remember Peter’s words _you put so many walls, Moony, when you think somebody is attacking you. Sometimes we are just trying to help,_ and he feels like throwing up. “You got so invested in his life so fast. Way faster than us, Re. And with everything that happened with the two of you in school, I was wondering if you still have feelings for him.”

“Lily,” he sighs. Lily squeezes his hand, and Remus shakes his head. “I don’t - well, what do you want me to say? What do you want me to do, to look at Sirius from afar, to make a fucking test to see if he’s fit to be back in my life? I can’t do that. I want him to be alright, to be safe, and I -”

“It’s just, Re, I’m not sure he’s the same - if you should treat him like he’s the same. And I’m not saying I don’t trust you, honey, but I know _you_ know it’s just weird how we don’t know anything of what he did when he was away. And I don’t know, he was away for so long, why is he back now? And I know he’s not _evil_ , I know James made sure of that. I can see he’s been in pain, that he has suffered, as all of us have... but I can feel something is not right, not completely, and I can _see_ how the two of you look at each other, and I _know_ you are in something together, and I just… I don’t want you to be hurt, Remus.”

Remus stays quiet.

“I can’t stop myself, Lily,” he says in the end, untangling their hands, not daring to look back at Lily, “I can’t stop feeling what I’m feeling. I know Sirius is not the same. Believe me, I know,” he laughs bitterly. “but I think it is part of who we are - to be entangled in a story together. As far as I can help him, as far as he’ll allow me to be there, I’ll be there.”

“Re, please. You can’t think so lowly of yourself - it’s not like you to give in to something like this so easily, without questions, without knowing! And I know there’s something wrong-!”

“I know it too, alright?” and he didn’t intend to yell, but now he is raising his voice, and his hard eyes go to Lily’s, who looks a bit stunned. “I _know it_ , and I don’t care. I want to be there for him, no matter what, okay?” and he doesn’t give Lily time to answer, because he realizes this is _his_ answer - he is in love with Sirius, yet again. He has been in love with Sirius for so long, so he just shakes his head, defeated. “I have to go, Lily. I’ll write to you soon to see Harry, alright?”

Lily just nods.

“Take care, Re.” 

A few minutes later, he gets out of the green flames to find Sirius sitting on his couch, looking at him, surprised.

“I need to talk to you,” Remus says.

“I thought you were going to wait until I wrote to you?” 

“Well, you know I’ve never been that good at following the rules,” he says, and Sirius smiles at him.

“I know,” he says simply, and Remus breathes deeply as he goes around the couch to sit by Sirius’ side. They are silent, looking at each other. 

“I know you won’t explain to me what’s going on,” he says, more calmly than he thought he would be. “And you don’t have to. But please, let me keep helping you. Let me keep coming here to do whatever I can -”

Sirius’ eyes are soft, even as he interrupts him. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea anymore, Remus,” he says, sighing and looking to the ceiling.

“Please, Sirius. I know something dark is going on - I know it is not a simple curse, and you told me yourself, I know you _did_ something. But I don’t care,” he adds quickly, and Sirius looks at him with disbelief at that. “I really don’t, Sirius. I don’t want you to push me away _again,_ I can’t go back to _not having you in my life_ , can’t you see?” and he grows more desperate, his voice strained. “You are fucking everything to me, Sirius, and I can’t do anything else but try to help you so you can live -”

“You know I’ve never stopped thinking about you, right?” Sirius asks, interrupting him with urgency, his eyes stormy and his voice firm and defiant, and Remus feels dizzy and off-balance. “In all these years, I never - I couldn’t -” he shakes his head, and Remus reaches for his hand, but stops himself at the desperate look in Sirius' eyes. “I read your letter where you told me you loved me at least a hundred times, and I almost answered you a hundred others. I _would_ have written to you, if I hadn't known that the curse would make my letter burn as soon as it got to England. Because the thing is, Remus, how could you have thought, for even a second, that I didn’t love you too - that you were just a game to me? And then I was back, and I had your letter, and I just had to tell you about how _wrong_ you were, but you had also told me you wanted to get over me, and after _years_ without a new letter, I couldn’t -” and Remus shakes his head, and his hand goes to Sirius’ cheek, where Sirius traps his fingers and crushes them in his fist. “And I’m so fucking selfish, because as soon as I realized that you were with someone, as soon as Lily mentioned Shacklebolt, when I saw you with him - I should have been happy. I should have thought about how good he is for you. But I wasn’t, I just wanted to rip you away from him,” and his fingers release Remus’ hand, but Remus inches forward, threading his fingers at Sirius’ nape. “But Kingsley is a nice man, and I know it, Remus, and when I saw the way he treats you, I realized that you actually deserve to be treated like that - you deserve better, Remus, you deserve real love,” and Remus is shaking his head as he pushes his forehead against Sirius', kneeling on the sofa to force Sirius to look him in the eye. “You deserve someone who won’t hurt you at every turn,” and an actual sob replaces Sirius’ words.

Remus just says, “No,” and kisses him. And it’s a life-shattering kiss, because he realizes with it how fucked he is, because _nothing_ has felt like this before, not even their kisses in Hogwarts. Sirius is crying, but also grabbing him desperately, pulling him closer, his fingers digging painfully into his arms.

Remus pulls away, shaking, his hands in Sirius’ hair.

“Don’t want anyone else. You’ll always be the person I want,” he says firmly.

Sirius looks sad, but in the end, he just sighs, and pulls Remus fiercely back against himself, kissing him.

Remus doesn’t have to think from that moment on. Later on, when he is in Sirius’ bedroom, naked, panting, he feels more real, like he's back where he belongs, than he has in the last seven years.

\---

_September 17, 1981_

_Fuck you. You left us, you left me. Fuck you, Black._

\---

Sirius disappears for days at a time, but it's only now that he's living with him that Remus realizes it.

Not that he meant to move in with Sirius right away, but there are things in their relationship that seem unavoidable. 

Still, most days are good - even though some days Sirius locks himself in the bedroom for a couple of hours without explanation, and he doesn’t allow Remus to help him with his research anymore. Even if Remus suspects that Sirius needs him in a way that he’s not telling him, because he can feel peaks and dips in his own magic that are not related to the moon. Remus has come a long way from believing that Sirius was simply cursed by his mother to not come back to England - he suspects that something went _very_ wrong in the process of trying to break the curse. He thinks that explains why he’s back - he probably has to break a curse in the place his mother died -, and why he sometimes, out of the blue, seems to be in pain. He thinks that Lily’s clue about necromancy might have to do with the process of breaking the curse - he suspects Sirius will try to do something like bringing his mother’s ghost back. He doesn’t want to think about the price that Sirius might have to pay to achieve that, and how this can go against all that Sirius’ had fought against in his youth.

_Why now, why you, why here,_ his mind seems to echo sometimes, but he shuts that down quickly. Lily’s words _it’s not like you to give in this easily_ are silenced too. 

He wasn’t expecting James and Lily to be happy with his decision about Sirius, but he wasn’t expecting to be confronted either - not by James, at least. But after a nasty fight, the Potters seem to come to a quiet resignation, knowing well enough how impossible it is to convince Remus against something he has set his mind on, so they start inviting them back to dinner. When they are together, Lily looks sad, and James switches between sending daggers with his eyes at Sirius, acting like nothing is going on between his friends, and withdrawing into contemplative silences. Harry hasn’t been introduced to Sirius yet, and Remus gets the feeling that Sirius prefers it that way.

Still, most days with Sirius are good, and they seem to fall into a natural rhythm. Sirius looks at him warmly, and has his hands on Remus every time he gets a chance. But at other times, he looks very tired, with shadows shifting in his eyes. When that happens, he keeps Remus at arm's length. 

They fuck, they eat, they sleep holding each other so tightly, that Remus wakes up with marks of fingers on him every other day. They go out for walks on the weekends, and on weekdays, they sit on the couch, in front of each other, Remus with a book to read, and Sirius with all his parchments and the weird objects that he brings back every time he disappears for a couple of days.

During their dinners, they start talking about Remus’ years without Sirius - what Remus did during the war, what happened with Peter, how he dated people without much success. Remus talks about Harry, and Sirius’ eyes get wet as he asks about everything to do with the kid - his favourite fruit, the first time he said Remus’ name, what songs he knows. Remus’ heart melts a bit, and he makes sure to talk about it to James on the next full moon, so he knows that Sirius has never stopped caring about them. 

Two months go by before Sirius talks about Regulus. It’s a Tuesday, a regular one, and Sirius looks more tired than usual when he pulls Remus onto his lap, and pushes his face against the crook of his neck, and tells him how he got a clue about Regulus taking the Mark, and how he decided that he had to stop him, but he didn’t want to put any of his friends at risk - so he tells Remus how he researched for a month about spells that would make him untraceable, and how he rented a room in Hogsmeade and started following his brother. And how he pursued him for three months; how he was about to give up after being ignored over and over again by his brother, and how Remus’ letter almost broke him, but then Regulus decided to meet with him, and told him about the Mark, and how scared he was. He tells Remus how they fought and yelled and broke almost everything in the room, but from that moment on, Regulus started visiting him every week. How they started talking, for real, for the first time in their lives, and how he realized that Regulus’ decisions were not based on hate or pure evilness. He started understanding that things couldn’t be black and white with them, that Regulus _did_ care about other people - how he didn’t think that everyone who wasn’t from a pureblood family was shit, and how he was trying to make a difference from the _inside._ How he was scared to a point that he would get paralyzed sometimes - how he feared _everything_ , and yet, he still pushed through. And Sirius started understanding him, admiring him, to some degree, and loving him as a brother, not just as his new project to be a hero. He tells Remus how, in November, Regulus came to his room, half manic, half desperate, telling him that he was set to take the Mark in December - and how they tried to stop it, but couldn’t. He talks about trying to get into the Death Eaters’ den, because he was a careless idiot who thought he could take Voldemort and half of his Death Eaters on his own, and how he got trapped in some simple Disillusionment charm that made him lose his way in the maze of rooms in the mansion that the ceremony was taking place in. How he barely escaped with life, and how Regulus came to him two days later, not angry, but defeated.

Sirius then starts talking about how he decided, in the first days of 79’, to research how to break the magic of the Mark that forced Regulus to follow the orders of his master, that put him at risk at every turn. How, after months of research on his own, he decided to check out some clues he got about a group of shamans in the Amazon who, it was rumoured, could undo any kind of charm or spell, and even curses, and how Regulus and he fought once again when Sirius revealed his plans to his brother. How Regulus begged him to stay, to help him figure out another way of beating the Dark Lord, because if they defeated him, then Regulus would be free. But Sirius threw things at the walls and said that if they fought Voldemort, then Regulus would be forced to fight in the front line, and he would get killed and all of _this_ would have been for nothing - he said that their only chance was for Regulus to keep pretending to be faithful to stay out of harm’s reach. Sirius starts crying when he tells of how Regulus had looked at him with sad eyes, and said that they should ask for Dumbledore’s help, and how Sirius had snarled at that, because how could they trust the old man, when he was willing to send his own young soldiers directly to the front line too - like he had intended to do with him, like he was doing it with James, with Remus? How could they trust him, when he would just ask Regulus to keep working for Voldemort, passing on information, risking him being found out as a double agent? 

_Isn’t that the same as now?_ Regulus had asked, Sirius says, sobbing. _If they find out that I’ve been meeting with you, I’m a dead man, Sirius,_ and then he had just sighed, and hugged him, for the first time since they were kids, and asked him to be careful and return as soon as he could. 

Remus tries to soothe him through it, his hands going up and down his arms, breathing deeply so that Sirius can follow his pattern. Sirius doesn’t seem capable of finishing his story but after a few minutes of hiccups and sobs, he tells Remus how he started in the Amazon, but he couldn’t contact the shamans, so then he moved to Japan, and then he was in Norway, and then in the USSR, and Greece, where he got his mother’s letter cursing him.

When Sirius shuts up, they have tea and go to sleep. On the next day, Sirius fucks him with desperation, and then tells him, when they are tangled in the sheets, how he tried to get back to England, but almost died when he got to the island, so he had gone to France. He doesn’t specify what the curse did to him, but he does tell him about how lost he felt, and how Regulus' death hurt him to the core. He says he thought he would never feel anything that wasn’t pain and numbness again, and that he couldn’t face them, even if he could have got back to England, because he knew that nobody would understand how much grief the death of his estranged brother had brought him. Remus can’t stop the disbelief that sneaks into his gesture, so Sirius just takes his hand and kisses his knuckles, and tells Remus that he knows, but he was so broken, so hurt that he couldn’t see past his pain at the time. 

He had never thought he would get his brother back in his life, and then he had gone and messed it up, lost him forever. And that broke him.

For the first time, Remus sees something other than pain in those eyes - he sees how much Sirius has grown from the boy he was, how much he understands now, how hard he can love and how low he can go, and how much he doesn’t want to get there again. And Remus realizes how true it is that he loves a man who is not the same person he loved over seven years ago, and how true it is that he’ll always find his way back to Sirius, and love any version of him.

From then on, they start talking more about Sirius - about his regrets in regards to Regulus, what he could have done differently, what he couldn’t; they talk about Sirius’ meetings with James, how they are trying to get to know each other again, and how that pains Sirius, because it makes him think of all that could have been if he hadn’t fucked off.

Most days are good, Remus thinks, when they start laughing together while they cook, or when they meet with James and Lily and things start to feel somewhat _normal_ , or when Sirius tackles him down on the bed and they laugh and talk about the future - first of short-term plans, how they want to go to Diagon Alley on a date, how they might take a holiday trip to another country. But then Sirius starts talking about getting a place - _a real place -_ for the two of them, maybe a flat in London, or maybe a house in Godric’s Hollow. He always refers to a mysterious _when all of this is over_ , but Remus can’t stop himself from dreaming, from hoping, from wanting.

And Sirius still disappears, but not for more than a couple of hours at a time now, and he seems less absorbed in his research. Remus has been thinking of asking Sirius to join him and Prongs for the next full moon at the end of September because after three months of being together it feels _right_ , when on Saturday, the 21st of September, Sirius disappears. 

He doesn’t leave a note behind, and he doesn’t get back until Tuesday, the 24th of September.

\---

_July 10, 1984_

_Sirius,_

_It’s been six years since the last time I saw you, and I’m not sure if you are out there anymore. I miss you. Even though life has gone on, and I’m happy with how things are._

_Today I remembered, all of a sudden, our last period with the Animagus investigation. Do you remember how proud you were about it, how you felt invincible? I was so sure Moony was going to be so happy, and then the fucker hexed our butts off when we showed him what we had done._

_I always found it a bit weird how you kept referring to the nights of the full moon as our greatest adventures, the highlight of our Hogwarts years. I always thought Remus must have felt weird about that, maybe like we were using him. But I can only remember how he smiled at that, even when you said, and yes, I’m sure you said this because it made me feel really awkward, that Moony’s curse was great._

_A few days ago, Moony was here and we were listening to some records. Harry was already asleep when he said that those were the best years of his life. That those moons were so, so important for him, and that nobody would steal them from us - not you, not Peter._

_He’s right, of course. But nobody will steal them from you either._

_Love,_

_James_

_\---_

Monday, the 23rd of September. It’s the autumn equinox, and Sirius has been getting ready for it for six months now. 

His heart is heavy with pain and regret. He wishes he could have said goodbye to Remus, but he couldn’t stand lying again to the man he loves. He didn’t want to face him and have to use his magic, yet again, to mould Remus’ magic to cooperate with him, to make him follow him blindly so he could harvest the magic of his curse to stop his own. 

He thinks, for the hundredth time, that Remus might just have given it all to Sirius on his own, without Sirius’ influence, if Sirius would just have explained that Remus’ magic helped him get through the days and gave him the energy to face the last step of the curse-breaking process. Sirius prefers to be the bad one of the story rather than allowing Remus to strip himself of all of his defences.

Six months of preparation in England, five years that he has been working to correct his own mistakes. Seven months since his mother’s death allowed him to get back into England, giving him the chance to finally, finally gather every element he needs to fix the horrors he engaged in. 

Even with the powerful magic of generations of Blacks, he doesn’t shudder anymore at the evil magic that surrounds him in the old mansion he’s at. Living with two curses for so long has made him able to resist the heavy push of the accumulated magic that lives in every property of the family. 

He has kept every room, every place of this old countryside house dark, so he only has his own instincts to guide him as he walks through the dark corridors with the wooden floors creaking under his feet. He can feel a thousand eyes of the dead inhabitants of the mansion around him, and in every corner, the shadows lurk with faceless, nameless monsters. He has always been able to feel, almost taste, the memories of pain, torture and hate through the aisles of every family house, and this is no exception - as he passes in front of long windows, the burgundy curtains gently wave with an inexistent breeze, and sad, pained whispers come out of them with every movement. He knows that the scratched wallpaper is covered with insults that appear wherever he walks, talking of _treason, monsters_ and _blood_ , even if he can’t see them. Even in the complete darkness he has kept the house in, the shine of silver and gold from objects scattered over the dusty furniture catches his eye from time to time.

It's nothing new for him to be in a mansion of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, and this one doesn't feel any different than the other dozens he's been in throughout his life, and still, he finds himself smiling at the thought of being done with this place, leaving behind the musty, rancid air, and turning into dust the walls that seem to shrink around him wherever he goes. He feels a sick pleasure at the thought of the anger of his ancestors at the property being destroyed by his own branch of deep magic. _Shouldn’t you be proud?_ he asks out loud, aimlessly, to the whispering portraits, making them suddenly go silent - a silence that shows that he got his message across. He knows the silence is worse than the constant rumbling around the house, but he doesn't care anymore - he doesn’t care about what's good or wrong, not when it comes to places like this, so he keeps pacing through the hallways, in a tired rhythm, getting closer and closer to the big salon where he has everything ready so he can start his ritual as soon as the sun sets.

He stops by the threshold of the salon, feeling the weight of a life-changing moment. In the room there are two old, battered sofas, so full of dust that they aren't brown anymore, but almost grey. They are covered in moth-eaten shawls left in a haste by the last residents of the house. The green wallpaper looks almost fluorescent in the places where the portraits he hung off from were, and the old rug in the middle of the room on which he set a metallic fire pit that looks strangely in place in the middle of the torn-apart place, remind Sirius of all the Slytherin obsession of his family. The light of the waxing gibbous moon makes everything look askew - and he thinks it's quite suitable for how everything should be - a bit off-axis, a bit out of place.

It’s almost time, and he has calculated everything - messing with life and death gives you the capacity to focus beyond nerves and be ready for whatever is coming. After fucking up the first time, he won’t fail this one. Thankfully, he doesn't have to deal with his mother’s curse any more - that ended when she died. His mother might have been a powerful witch, but her curse was just that - a powerful spell to keep him away from England, that had been easy enough to disperse when she was gone.

The magic of a failed attempt at contacting his brother’s soul when he was going crazy with grief - well, that’s a completely different business. 

Because the thing is, when you mess with taboos, you have to pay for them. And pay. And pay. Dark magic has a high cost, and sometimes your magic is not enough. 

And when you are young and messed up, you might _think_ you understand the cost, but you don’t. You really don’t. 

He sits down, feeling the magic on the tips of his fingers. Everything is set for the ritual - everything he didn’t have the last time: his father’s bones, earth from the cave where Regulus died, his own blood as an offering - _the blood of Regulus kin_ -, and the price of the summoner: his memories. It had taken him _years_ to understand what the texts meant with _power from within_ , _power of bonds,_ and _magic from the depth._ He had to learn that only love can bring back the loved ones’ memories, and that’s the only thing that might close this circle.

He takes out from his pockets the photographs that he had collected over the months: pictures of him and Regulus as kids, of them when they were teenagers and estranged, and the only picture he has of them from the months they shared as actual brothers. The two of them are looking at the camera, Sirius’ hand over Regulus’ shoulder, both of them clenching their jaws - yet, when Regulus raises his chin and blinks, he suddenly looks so young, so vulnerable. Sirius didn’t understand it at the beginning, but with time he realized how much control Regulus had given Sirius with only one picture, because if it had fallen in the wrong hands, that would have brought about Regulus’ death much faster. Still, Regulus agreed to take the picture, and for what? so that Sirius could have a nice souvenir for his travels?

All in all, it spoke of how much Regulus was willing to risk, and how little Sirius understood at the time.

He puts the seven pictures in front of him, and as soon as he feels the push of magic that tells him that it’s _time,_ he lights up the fire that starts consuming everything else. The pictures seem to dance in front of his eyes. They are like water, reflecting different shades of orange, red, and blue. 

Then, he waits, and waits, and waits. Hours and hours, where he can only look at the pictures, summoning his most precious memories of his brother. When the only thing left in the pit are cold ashes, he sinks his fingers in them and starts making grey and white patterns on the first picture, where Regulus is smiling at him, both of them in Grimmauld place. He keeps his focus, even when from the corner of his eye, he can see a figure - dark, tall, handsome - materializing. He swallows, resisting the temptation - he already failed once, he won’t fail again. He wants his life _back,_ he wants a life with Remus, so he needs to let this go. He has to. He needs to finish this counter-curse to _get rid_ of Regulus, not to have one more chance to see him.

With the second picture, he starts crying. There is Regulus, looking miserable on the day that Sirius was going to Hogwarts for the first time. 

“Are you sure you can pay the price?” he hears Regulus’ voice, ethereal and tired, when he starts the third picture, where he and Regulus stand on different sides of the dining room in Grimmauld place, his mother and father at each side of his brother.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius says in return, not looking up, still drawing the symbols.

“Dark magic can’t be undone without leaving a mark on you, Sirius,” says Regulus, and Sirius starts crying again, because when he starts with the fourth picture, it suddenly shifts, and it’s not of Regulus flying around the Quidditch pitch, but of Remus in school when he was barely eleven. He looks at Sirius with big, childish eyes, and smiles, extending his hand towards him. 

“No,” he gasps, but Regulus doesn’t answer. He tries to fight it, to bring the picture back to what it was - to the price he was willing to pay, that he had _studied_ was enough. But the memory stays there, fixed, and Remus smiles softly at him yet again, so Sirius swallows and keeps making the lines and swirls. 

When the next picture turns into Remus waking up in the morning, smiling softly in his bed, not even a week ago, his hands start shaking and he almost misses the shape of the rune he’s supposed to do. He’s not thinking anymore - he can’t think about it. If he wants any chance of living a life that is _his,_ he has to finish this. He has to give whatever he’s asked for.

The sixth picture has Remus under his body, his eyes full of emotion while he moans softly, without sound. Sirius is stunned, and his fingers don’t feel anything anymore when he sinks them in the ashes to paint new runes over Remus’ hard angles. 

When he gets to the last picture, he only feels coldness, even when the fire is burning again in the pit because his magic is working on its own to finish the ritual. The seventh picture doesn’t move, because it only shows a piece of parchment with Remus’ handwriting. Sirius recognizes the letter as the one where he learnt for the first time that Remus had loved him - and still did, even with the anger, the pain, the years. 

The fire burns merrily when he picks up his wand, feeling nothing but emptiness and pain. He levitates the pictures and he’s about to toss them into the fire, the smoke making him tear up and cough, but he tries to hold on to Remus’ memories for just one more second. Regulus mutters, “I’m sorry, big brother,” and Sirius realizes this is it. With a last flick of his wrist, the pictures fall into the flames, and Sirius drops to his knees, alone in front of a furious fire that starts licking the walls, the floors, and everything in its reach. Sirius blinks, watching the flames expand and grow and get closer, before he apparates away, leaving the house to be consumed by the fire.

\---

Remus is pacing around the living room when the _crack_ of apparition makes him turn. He feels relief for only a second before he makes eye contact with Sirius and everything turns upside down. 

Sirius is covered in soot and looks as broken as that first day, when they talked outside of the Potters'.

With his heart beating wildly, Remus sits down on the sofa. Sirius sits down in front of him.

"What happened?" Remus asks, brokenly.

"Where do you want me to start?"

"I'm not sure. Where have you been?"

"Finishing what I started."

"Sirius," Remus sighs.

Sirius shrugs.

"If you want to know what happened, you should know that it's over now."

"What's over?" Remus asks, a knot in his throat.

"Everything," says Sirius, simply, looking tired, and not meeting Remus' eye.

They stay silent, and Remus feels like crying.

"I tried to contact Regulus' soul six years ago. I failed, so I was trapped in his worst memories since then. Not all the time, but I would get flashbacks from time to time."

"So when you came back with your hands bloodied…?"

"Yeah," Sirius scratches his nape. "Regulus' memory about killing a former classmate."

Something heavy settles in Remus' belly.

"So your mother's curse…?"

"I _was_ cursed by her. I really was," and Sirius looks vaguely guilty at that. "But that ended when she died - that’s why I could come back this year. I lied to you about it still working because I was ashamed about what I had done, and because I needed you around."

“Why did you -” he starts, but he can feel his voice trembling.

“Remus,” Sirius says, sighing tiredly. “I want you to know that I did love you. I didn’t just keep you around because I needed you. All the promises, all the plans, all of that was real. I wanted to break the curse because I wanted to get back in control of my life - to stop living like a shadow, dreading the next moment I would get trapped in memories. And I wanted that so I could have a _real_ life with you.”

“What are you saying, Sirius?” he asks, feeling anger boiling inside of him, even when tears come to his eyes at the use of the _past tense_ about Sirius’ feelings.

“I needed you around, but I didn’t want to use you, Remus. You have to know how much I loved you for my whole life,” he says, firmly. “But yes, your magic helped me to deal with the curse. I could connect with the dark magic of your own curse, and fuel myself with your magic. Somehow, your magic stopped a lot of the flashbacks and gave me some control so that I could still keep a connection with reality. My magic influenced you back too,” and Sirius swallows, pausing for a second. “I didn’t come back to use you, Remus, but in the end, I did, without even realizing it. Close to the fulls, your magic was so raw, so strong, that I could bend it without even thinking about it, and use it to block my own curse. In the last months, I tried to stop harnessing your magic, but I think it was too late, and I needed it to finish the ritual to break the curse. I think you were already too deeply connected to me.” Sirius looks defeatedly at his hands, to his feet, anywhere but Remus. “In the end, the cost of using dark magic was greater than I had thought, and the price I was asked was different than what I intended to give. I thought that I would give up my memories of Regulus, but what I was asked for wasn’t the memories, but my emotions about him. And even that wasn’t enough. To close the connection I had established with my brother, I had to give some new emotions. Some new experiences of love.”

Remus understands then - the cold feeling when Sirius arrived at the flat. The lack of feeling in Sirius’ words, the use of the past tense. 

He feels broken, and even though he can feel he’s still crying, he just wants to destroy everything. He covers his face with his hands and _pushes._

“I know it isn’t worth much to you now,” Sirius keeps talking. “But I’m really sorry it ended like this, Remus. I know I’m hurting you, and I do care about you. I _know_ I loved you and-” He swallows, and Remus thinks this is the saddest he ever heard Sirius. 

Not that it matters anymore.

Remus has had enough of _this_ , whatever it is, so before Sirius can say anything more, he stands up, gives him one last look, and shakes his head slowly. Sirius stops talking, his eyes on Remus as the world turns and he apparates away. 

There’s nothing else to save, so Remus just leaves everything behind.

It’s the 24th of September of 1985, and Remus has lost everything he had that he valued.

\---

_June 21, 1987_

_James,_

_I’m alright. I’m in Scotland now. Dumbledore offered me the position to teach DADA at Hogwarts._

_I miss you. Lily and Harry too. I want to meet with you, and if Sirius is still around, I would like to see him too._

_I think I have something that might help with his lost memories - or, well, emotions.  
_

_Let me know when we can meet._

_Love,_

_R._

\---


End file.
